


Jealousy is an odd thing

by CyberjenicPanda



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: (they just don't know its mutual lol), Angst with a Happy Ending, Communication Failure, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slight Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-07-30 03:43:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20090719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyberjenicPanda/pseuds/CyberjenicPanda
Summary: Kirk and Spock are together. Bones totally isn't jealous at all. Well, maybe a bit, but it's the pointy eared bastard’s fault, probably. Bones finds it's easier to blame Spock, even if he hasn't actually done anything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies before you read about any OOC-ness, I tried to keep them as in character as possible, and I guess you can be the judge of how well I did (TBF this is my first time writing them).  
Also if you spot any errors please point them out! I did a once over but it is very possible I might have missed something.

Bones had had a crush on Jim for a long time. Sure, he had always been fond of the kid, with those pretty blue eyes and that cocksure smirk. But he had had a  _ crush  _ on him for a while. It had been a long day at the academy, full of whining cadets and morons who thought that they needed to see a doctor over every single paper cut they got, so when Jim offered to go out for drinks afterwards to celebrate the end of the first of his three year rush, he had happily agreed. The place was quiet, softly lit, and played that old kind of music that Bones knew Jim hated but put up with because he knew Bones liked it. It was about the third drink in? Bones couldn’t remember, but he knew he was adequately buzzed from the alcohol running through his veins. Kirk was across the table from him, chatting with some lavender tinged woman, her yellow eyes going doe eyed at him as Jim wooed her with his usual charm and tact. It was when Jim smiled at her, that one particular smirk when he knew he was going to be getting some action tonight, when Bones felt something distinctly green eyed coil in his stomach. Jim had left with the woman shortly after, throwing an apologetic glance at Bones as he abandoned him alone at the table. He had only smirked back in what he hoped was an adequate amalgamation between ‘go get ‘em, tiger’ and ‘I don’t approve of your life choices, but have fun’. 

Bones had sat at that table, alone, for a long time after they had left, ordering drink after drink until he was beyond smashed. At some point the bartender had decided that enough was enough and had deposited him from the bar. The walk back was cold and lonely. It was only when he got back to his tiny apartment did he realise two things. That he had a crush on James T. Kirk, and that he should really watch how much he drank because holy hell the morning after was not fun. After his third (or fourth? It was hard to tell) round of vomiting he came to the conclusion that he would not tell Jim about his revelation, because one, Jim had told him on many several occasions that he didn’t swing that way, and two, Bones didn’t want to jeopardise what he already had with Jim, too afraid that any confessions of love would topple the friendship he had formed with the man over the past year. So, Bones stayed silent.

It was not until many years later, after Nero, after Vulcan, after Khan, after Jim’s death, did Bones have to rethink anything. He had mostly come to peace about his feelings towards Jim, it would never work and that was that. End of story. So when after Jim’s resurrection (Bones hated to call it that) he noticed that him and a certain Vulcan Commander where getting close, and making eyes at each other that could only be described as romantic, did Bones start to rethink what he had buried a long time ago. Rumours about the Captain and the Commander started flying around the ship immediately, gossip coming like second nature to the officers aboard. Bones didn’t like to give much weight to rumours, most of the time they were just that, idle nothings to pass the time, but the evidence became irrefutable when he briefly glimpsed the two of them in the Captain’s mess enjoying breakfast with Bones and the two were holding hands. It was under the table, and dropped as quickly as he had seen it, but he was sure of what he had seen. 

Now this led to Bones having to do some thinking, and after about halfway through his bottle of bourbon did he finally settle what was swirling through his mind. Jim and Spock were most certainly in some form of intimate relationship despite Jim’s claims of not liking men, and that Bones most certainly still had a crush on the Captain. This led Bones to two conclusions. That Jim did in fact like men that way, which led to conclusion two being that much more painful, that he had hid his homosexuality from Bones. Bones couldn’t fathom why, Jim knew about his brief stint with Luke from back in the academy days, so the only other reason he could think of, was that Jim, whether or not knowing about Bones’ crush on him, only viewed him as a friend and nothing more. Which stung. A lot. Bones had done a lot of crying into his bourbon that night. 

The day directly after his revelation was painful to say the least. Bones seemed to be hyper aware of every single glance, every minute hesitation, every slight smile, and the sour feeling in his chest was only getting worse and worse with each one he noticed. Without really noticing it, or making a conscious effort to do so, he found himself spending less time in the company of both of them together, and the pangs in his chest lessened somewhat. However since the two seemed to be practically joined at the hip it more just turned into Bones avoiding the both of them. Possibly the worst part was how happy Jim still was despite everything, while Bones was feeling miserable and guilty constantly about not spending time with either of them, neither of them seemed fussed in the slightest. Of course, he hadn't exactly been expecting Spock to burst out in tears, but it felt like  _ nothing _ changed, like neither of them even noticed it, much less were affected. Bones thought that was just about right.

Bones was in a foul mood, some stupid engineer the night before had let his mind wander to the point where he had accidentally given himself a plasma burn, a nasty one at that. So of course Bones had had to stay late to regenerate that moronic ensign’s hand, which meant he was late getting to sleep (not that he was going to get much anyway) which in turn lead him to being especially cranky the next morning. Things only soured from there when Jim asked him to come down to some foreign planet to observe the locals. He had stupidly agreed and off they went, only to get attacked by said locals before lunch time (he could have told them that would happen). Things only got worse when he was harshly pressing down onto Jim’s stomach in a frantic attempt to stop the copious amount of blood currently exiting the Captain’s body as he and the rest of the away team waited for Enterprise to get a firm enough lock on them to beam them back. Spock knelt beside Jim’s head, trying to soothe the Captain’s tremendous amount of pain. Bones studiously ignored them both, far too focused on keeping Jim from dying to care about whatever it was they were whispering to each other, that was until he saw Spock lean in close and whisper “It will be alright, Ashayam.” Bones blamed the shudder that ran down his spine on the normal transporter heebie jeebies, as they were all dumped back onto Enterprise in a flash of light.

Jim would be alright, Bones had decided. An extended stay in the Sickbay, plenty of painkillers, and several rounds of regenerators, and he would be fine. Bones clutched his head in a vain attempt to stave off a headache, why he ever let himself be persuaded to go on away missions he would never know, probably only because it was guaranteed that Jim would get injured and they would need a doctor on hand (Bones steadfastly dismissed the possibility that maybe he always agreed because Jim was the one asking). It was about halfway through the first hour of head clutching and report ignoring that Bones heard the gentle knock on his office door. 

“Come in,” he muttered, in no mood to deal with M’benga right now, but also realising that he wouldn’t be bothering him unless it was important. He was then wholly surprised when the neutral tone of Spock responded.

“If now is not a good time, I can come back later, Doctor.” Bones swiveled around quickly to take in the composed Vulcan, all graceful poise and unreadable expressions.

“No no, it’s alright.” He gestured by way of explanation to the PADD. “I wasn’t really getting much done anyway.” He waved Spock in, who took two purposeful strides inside, closing the door behind him and standing to attention in front of Bones, hands clasped behind his back. “To what do I owe the pleasure of being graced with your presence?” Bones couldn’t help the slight bitter tinge to his voice, not only was the insufferable hobgoblin with Jim but he could also completely understand (and agree) why Jim had chosen Spock in the first place. Spock had always infuriated Bones to some degree because of that, lean and muscled, able to put up with Jim’s shit, and challenge him in equal measure. Bones hadn’t been lying when he had told Jim all those years ago that he liked him. Sure, he had initially said it to piss off Jim, but in time he also realised the words had an air of truthfulness to them. 

“I had come to see if the Captain was alright, and to hear about his condition from you, Doctor McCoy,” Spock said reservedly, head tilting slightly as he looked at Bones. 

“Well apart from being shish-kabobed by an old fashioned pointy stick, he’s doing just peachy. Thanks for asking,” Bones huffed, turning back to his desk, trying to hide his concern about Jim from the nosy Vulcan. Who knows what kind of torment that green-blooded bastard could inflict on him if he told Jim, he’d never hear the end of it.

“I believe it’s called a spear, Doctor,” Spock calmly informed him, one eyebrow raised as if he couldn’t believe he had to explain that to him.  _ Damn Vulcans _ , Bones thought. Bones turned back slowly to face Spock, incredulation painted on his face. 

“I know what a spear is,  _ Spock _ . Do you want to try and explain anything else or can I get back to not doing my work?” Bones gestured vaguely at his PADD. Spock hesitated for a moment before he shook his head.

“No, I only ask if I could visit the Captain while he is resting from his injuries.” Spock tried to keep his voice steady but Bones could hear the slighter waver in his voice, and he relaxed slightly despite himself. 

“Sure, he’s on the third biobed. Knock yourself out.” He pointedly turned back to his desk, effectively dismissing the Vulcan. Spock hesitated for a second, almost like he wanted to add something, but before Bones could spin around and tell him to spit it out the door to his office closed with a quiet click. Bones just huffed and resumed his previous stance of staring at the PADD and getting absolutely nothing productive done.

Bones really needed to hold another one of his mandatory ‘safety in the workplace’ seminars, because the situation in engineering was getting to the point where he was wondering if all the officers there were morons. He found himself walking back to his quarters after another weary shift, nothing life threatening, just lots of tiring menial work, when he heard the light running footsteps and shouted calls of one Captain Kirk behind him. He tried not to sigh painfully, as he had already explained to Jim that he was not meant to do any strenuous exercise (which included running funnily enough), but since his warnings always seemed to fall on deaf ears he decided he’d rather not waste his breath trying to explain it again. 

“Hey, Bones, slow down would ya?” Jim exclaimed as he finally caught up beside him. Bones slowed his pace, only because the doctor in him was concerned about Jim’s newly regenerated abdomen.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be running,” Bones pointed out, frowning as he saw Jim press his arm into his stomach. Bones had told himself it was useless to chastise him, as Jim would only do it again regardless, but he thought he would be negligent as his doctor if he didn’t at least mention it.

“It’s fine, and not what I wanted to talk with you about anyway,” Jim started, looking at Bones as he walked. “I heard you and Commander Spock had a bit of a talk in Sickbay while I was out.” 

“So that’s what he’s calling it,” Bones muttered, rolling his eyes. 

“Should he be calling it anything else?” Jim asked, worry tingeing his voice. “Regardless, he was worried about you. He said you didn’t look well, and I’m inclined to agree with him.” Jim was looking at his face intently, and Bones couldn’t help but look away, instead focusing on where he was walking.

“I’m fine if that’s what your asking,” Bones replied almost automatically. Chekov had asked something similar this morning and he had brushed the young kid off, even if the kicked puppy look he got in return was definitely not worth it. Jim abruptly stepped in front of him and stopped, bringing Bones to a screeching halt lest he whack into him. Jim held out a hand to stop him from sidestepping him and continue walking.

“Really? ‘Cause, to put it politely, you look like shit, Bones.” Jim responded empathetically, concern written clearly all over his face. Bones sighed and closed his eyes, reflexively bringing his hand up to cradle his forehead.

“Really, Jim. I’m alright. Sickbay has just been busier than usual, and it takes it out of me.” He released his hand to see Jim looking at him sympathetically, a small smile on his face. 

“Alright then, we’re having dinner in the Captain's mess, 1900 on the dot. I’ll be saving you a seat,” Jim told him, not quite phrasing it like an order but leaving little room for argument in his voice. Bones just huffed, rocking back on his heels. 

“1900 on the dot,” he parroted back. Jim nodded at him once, a smile on his face as he rushed off and disappeared around a corner. If Bones had had any foresight whatsoever he would have asked Jim what he meant by ‘we’.


	2. Chapter 2

Awkward. If Bones had to choose just one word to describe the current situation, it would be awkward. Between the constant flitting looks Spock kept giving him, and the oddly stilted one-sided small talk Jim was trying to have, the whole atmosphere was just awkward to its core. After talking to himself for the better part of thirty minutes, Jim finally gave up and Spock took it as his cue to clear his throat, drawing the tables attention to him. 

“Doctor McCoy, do you not enjoy your meal?” Spock asked, gesturing towards his half picked at plate. He glanced up from his plate, and made a face at the Vulcan.

“Didn't think you’d be one for small-talk, Commander,” Bones said sarcastically, half expecting him to prattle on with more stilted Vulcan small-talk. ‘Small-talk is illogical but a necessary way of communicating with humans’, Bones could almost hear Spock’s next sentence in his head.

“You’re correct, Doctor. I merely thought it would smooth my next topic of conversation,” Spock instead answered, and Bones couldn't keep the mild surprise off his face, even as he rolled his eyes and muttered “This outta be good” to himself. Spock paused, looking at the Captain, dare Bones say,  _ apprehensively _ . Although what really got Bones’ attention was the conflicted look in Jim’s eyes as he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Bones let the two of them have their wordless conversation with each other for a few more seconds before he huffed and sat up straighter. 

“Well, come on. Out with it, I don't have all night,” Bones huffed, trying to feign impatience when all his stomach could do was tie itself into knots. Spock shared one last glance with the Captain before fully giving his attention over to Bones. 

“Jim has, as of lately, been feeling like you have been neglecting your friendship with him since he and I got together.” Bones would have spat out his drink if he had one. Instead he just barked out a humourless laugh, hardly believing his ears while trying to keep his nerves in check. 

“And he can't tell me himself, why? It's not like he’s sitting right across from me or anything,” Bones said, bitterness creeping into his voice, he couldn't even have a conversation with Jim about their own relationship without that pointy-eared bastard taking over in some way. 

“Jim felt that if he ignored it, that the situation would resolve itself. I told him it was illogical to presume anything would get better without active participation from both parties,” Spock responded, calm as ever, which did nothing for Bones’ unexpectedly rising anger. 

“Real active participation on the Captain’s behalf right now, huh? Well, Jim, I want to hear this from you,” Bones spat, tone harsh as he felt himself rising out of his chair without consciously making the effort to do so. Bones really couldn't fathom why he was getting so angry, he just was. Everything from the past four months, the isolation, the bitterness, the  _ jealousy _ all rearing its ugly head in one go. Jim looked uncharacteristically frightened, eyes wide and wild as he looked helplessly between Spock and Bones.

“I-I don’t… Spock is telling the truth,” he finished lamely, looking away from both of them. “Ever since Spock and I got together it feels like you’ve been pulling back.” Bones just stared at Jim. It was one thing to hear it from Spock, but another entirely to hear it from Jim himself. He stumbled half a step back like he had been physically hit. Sure, Bones had been pulling away from Jim, but only because he saw how happy Jim and Spock had been. Bones just felt like a chore, sucking up Jim’s valuable time that he could be spending with his first officer, instead of preserving some old friendship from his academy days. Bones didn't know how to react, didn't even know if he could react as he just stood there, staring blankly at Jim for what like years, but was probably only a few seconds. Instead of standing there for another second he instead blurted out the first and only real thing on his mind. 

“I only did it because I didn't want to get in the way,” Bones mumbled, before he swiftly turned around and fled, unable to look at Jim’s disappointed face any longer. 

Bones wound up back in his quarters. He wasn't entirely sure how he got there, but like many other things tonight, he didn't want to think about it. He fumbled around his quarters for the one thing that might make this better, and was rewarded when his hands clasped around the bottle of scotch under his bed. It was a nice brand, he had been saving it for drinks with Jim. That thought soured his desire for the drink, but not enough for him to not knock a quarter of it back in one go. The resulting warm burn helped to steady his nerves as he stumbled over to his bed, trying not to think about his stupid decision making skills. This is why he always left the diplomatic stuff to Jim, he had a nasty habit of saying exactly what was on his mind, damn the consequences, of course, unlike today that hardly ever rebounded back to Jim. He scrubbed a harsh hand down his face, and tried to think of the best way to go about damage control. One thing Bones realised at least, he needed to talk to Jim. However much he hated to admit it, that damn Vulcan was right, he needed to figure things out between them. His jealousy, unchecked, would not magically go away. Logically (the word left a bitter taste in his mouth) he would then also need a plan. He eyed the bottle in his hands. A plan could wait.

Bones was thoroughly smashed. At some point he had set the nearly empty bottle on his bedside table, and at some point after that he had started crying into his pillow. What had initially started off as full-blown sobs had devolved into silent crying, he knew at this point he must look like a wreck, but he made no move to correct it. He almost missed the quiet knock on his door, almost. It took all of his remaining energy to respond.

“Unless someone is dying, it can wait until tomorrow,” he slurred, trying to project his voice to be heard from the other side of the door. Convinced that whoever it was on the other side of the door had realised that he didn't want company and would sod off, he promptly face planted back into his pillow. Thus, he was thoroughly surprised when he heard his door hiss open and someone stepped through. He was about to gather a scathing remark towards whichever idiot had dared to disturb him, but stopped short once he saw who it was. Jim stood still, staring at Bones, illuminated by the artificial light coming from the hallway. Bones stared at him, his foggy, inebriated mind unable to fully comprehend what was happening. It was embarrassing how long he spent trying to get his mouth working.

“Jim?” he eventually got out, the word sounding disjointed and tear-choked even to him.

“Oh, Bones,” Jim whispered, immediately moving over to him, helping him to sit up before he wrapped him in an all encompassing hug. Bones froze for only a second before he melted into the hug, oh how he had missed this. Jim hugged him for a long time, how long wasn't exactly clear to him, his mind too fuzzy to comprehend the passage of time, and since it didn't seem particularly important at this point he just resigned himself to sobbing into Jim’s shoulder as Jim rubbed soothing patterns into his back. At some point Bones had enough composure to pull back from Jim slightly, who let him hesitantly. “Bones?” he murmured, the look of utter sadness on his face too much for Bones to bare to look at. 

“Yeah?” he muttered, refusing to broach the topic first. Alcohol always made him stubborn. Jim just sighed, continuing to rub his back. 

“We need to talk about this. Back there, that wasn't a one off. This has been brewing for a while.” Jim powered ahead, undeterred by Bones’ simple answers. Bones went silent, part of him wanted to admit it, admit to everything in the hopes that things might be slightly better than they were now. However another smaller,  _ scared _ part of him held back, too afraid of rejection.

“Yeah,” Bones instead settled on saying. Jim just nodded, like his simple one word answer explained every question he had ever had.

“So, it's something to do with me and Spock being together, isn't it?” Bones just turned away, worrying his lip and fidgeting with his hands. Jim took it as an affirmative, never once stopping the hypnotic patterns on his back. God those hands of his were going to make Bones say something stupid one day. “Alright, is it because we’re too public about it? Or is it because we’ve been spending more time together? I’ve tried to spend time with you too, you just always seem to say you have something to do.” Bones sighed and gathered his courage.

“I just, I don't want to suck up your time with him. I can see how happy he makes you, and I don't want to intrude on that,” Bones confessed, or at least partly confessed, he wasn't quite up to mentioning the other more jealous reasoning. Jim’s face twisted into something sad, with a hint of something else his brain couldn't quite latch onto. After a few seconds of thought he finally settled on regret. Which was odd, wasn't Jim happy to be spending more time with Spock?

“You make me happy too. Just because I’m happy spending time with him doesn't mean I wouldn't be equally as happy spending time with you.” Jim brought his hand up to wipe some of the tears from Bones’ face, and he couldn't help but lean into the touch. Jim’s hand mercifully stayed on his cheek. However, after a second or two, Jim looked away from Bones, a frown worming its way across his features. “I don't think that’s all of it though,” Jim murmured, finally looking Bones in the eye again. Bones couldn't help but stiffen, fear shifting in the back of his sluggish mind. “Bones, you didn't seem to be particularly upset when we first met Spock, or when I took over Enterprise and he was my first officer for ages. It,” Jim paused, unsure how best to continue, “seems like it only came on in response to us becoming a thing.” Bones didn't know how to respond, so he didn't. Jim’s thumb moved distractedly along his cheek, coaxing Bones into responding. 

“I, I just guess I was…” Bones stopped himself, aware even in his alcohol filled haze the weight of his next words. “I was…  _ Jealous _ ,” he whispered the last word, like that made it any better. Jim however, didn't seem to really understand what exactly Bones was saying. 

“Jealous? Like jealous of having someone romantically?” Jim’s confusion was almost adorable, Bones couldn't help but smile if only for a brief moment. 

“No, jealous of… you two…  _ together _ .” Jim processed the statement for a moment. Realization dawned on his face as his thumb stilled. 

“Oh.” If it was any other situation, Bones would have laughed at the dumbfounded expression on Jim’s face. “ _ Oh, _ ” Jim said again, as it repeating the same word over and over would explain it further. 

“Yeah. Oh,” Bones huffed, staring at his hands.

“Bones, I never knew--”

“It's alright, Jim. It never seemed right to bring it up, as I said, I didn't want to come between you two. And, well, that seemed like a surefire way of doing so.”

“Bones, I’m so sor--” Bones stood up abruptly, suddenly needing distance between the two of them.

“Don't say you're sorry, it just makes all of this worse.” Jim wisely shut his mouth. Bones stalked over to the small desk in his quarters and leaned on it heavily, taking in a deep breath before releasing it. 

“Who was it?” Jim asked, almost silently, and had the room not been dead quiet he would have missed it. Bones didn’t want to admit it, up until now, he could play off this conversation as a misinterpretation, but he knew from the next step, there was no going back. For some reason, while making him stubborn, the alcohol currently taking up more room in his bloodstream than blood also made him brave. Bones twisted back to half look at Jim, to find him staring intently at Bones.

“Kinda both of you,” Bones eventually confessed, and something sparked in Jim’s eyes as if he had just figured out everything. Bones frowned, that sparkle usually meant a plan, which at this current point in time, Bones had neither the brain power nor the will to try and decipher what that meant.

“Wait here,” Jim said abruptly, standing up and opening his door before quickly exiting through it, the door closing after him with a hiss. Bones could do nothing but stare at the door in shock.

“Well alright then, guess I’ll wait here. Not sure where  _ else _ I would have gone,” Bones muttered to himself, propping himself on the desk, now realising once he was standing just how drunk he still was. Jim returned a short while later, dragging something along with him, which once Bones figured out who it was promptly scowled.

“Careful, or it’ll stick that way,” Jim warned as he ushered Spock in.

“Maybe I want it to,” Bones muttered, idly moving his hands along his desk. Bones turned his attention away from his desk to glare at Spock, maybe it was the drink but he swore that both of them were looking about 10% hotter than usual. Definitely the alcohol.

“Bones, why don’t you tell Spock what you told me?” Jim prompted. Bones didn’t know if he wanted to. Damn the stupid alcohol. 

“I was talking about how I was stupidly jealous of the both of you. There, happy?” Bones huffed, feeling his cheeks redden despite the gruff tone of his voice. Spock turned to Jim. 

“Most certainly,” Spock replied. Now it was Bones’ turn to be utterly dumbfounded. 

“I… don’t understand,” Bones eventually got out after his brain had entirely caught up with what Spock was saying.

“You were acting out because you were jealous of us, when in actuality there was no need to be jealous as your feelings were reciprocated,” Spock said calmly, almost too calmly for the bombshell he just dropped directly into Bones’ already frazzled, alcohol blurred mind. Bones needed a second to reboot. Clearly not enough time in the world would be enough to go through that sentence as he immediately blurted out the first, very eloquent thing that came to his mind.

“What?” Bones squawked, hardly able to comprehend anything at this point. Jim thankfully stepped in.

“What Spock is trying to say, is that we both like you back,” he put it as simply as possible yet Bones was still having a hard time. Damn alcohol, it had seemed like such a good idea at the time (really it had been the only idea at the time). Finally Bones latched onto something that could be labeled as higher thinking rather than just abstract noises that his brain was currently trying to verbalise.

“But why didn’t you two say something sooner?” Bones asked, or at least tried to, the words sounded odd to him but he hoped they would have better luck. Apparently they did.

“We didn’t know, frankly, we thought you just weren’t interested. I’ve known you for so long and you never seemed to give any indication you were into me, I just thought mine was unrequited.”

“As did I, you both fascinated me, but it seemed you were thoroughly disinterested in either Jim or me, so we figured that it was something both of us wanted but couldn’t have.” Bones felt like face palming. Hard.

“We’re a bunch of fools,” Bones eventually muttered. The rest of the room echoed his sentiment.

Bones shifted awkwardly on his feet. Now that they’d all exposed their bleeding hearts, what next? Thankfully Spock seemed to already have that figured out.

“I recommend we resign back to the captain’s quarters. It is awfully small in here.” Bones didn't know what to respond with so he just nodded. The quick walk back to Jim’s quarters was tense, but not in a wholly bad way. Once inside (Jim had it much warmer than his) he once again felt the strong pull of the alcohol in his system and he swayed despite himself. The momentary display of weakness was almost worth it for the giddy feeling he got when two strong pair of hands wrapped around his waist to keep him upright.

“At least buy me a drink first,” Bones slurred, suddenly finding it extremely hard to do even the simple task of keeping his eyes open. Standing was far too much and he leant all of his weight on the two propping him up.

“We are only in this situation because you have already had too much to drink, Leonard,” Spock pointed out, breath warm on his neck as he responded. Spock had never called him ‘Leonard’ before, that coupled with the fact that both of them were pressed against him (with the added bonus of Spock breathing on his neck) put his mind in all sorts of funny places. He grinned despite himself as they both maneuvered him onto the bed and rolled him on his side, tugging off each of his boots before bringing the blanket up to his chin. Bones instantly felt drowsy as the combined unmistakable smell of Jim and Spock washed over him, and he couldn’t help but burrow down further into the scent. The bed shifted under him and he was suddenly aware of two very warm bodies pressing into his front and his back. Weirdly, they smelt like Jim and Spock too, his muddled brain supplied to him, but he didn’t have much time to dwell on it as he promptly drifted off, pressing himself into both of the bodies at the same time.

  
Consciousness slowly filtered back to Bones, and for a moment he felt completely at peace (which he found odd considering his usual perpetual predicament). There were two warm, softly breathing things near him, one pressed into his back and one into his front, it was at this point the logical part of Bones’ mind caught up to him. He peeled open his eyes to get a view of sandy coloured, tousled hair tucked into his chest, the room barely bright enough to make it out. The hair smelled faintly of raspberry and beckoned Bones to ruffle it.  _ That's weird, Jim usually smells of raspberry too. _ Realization hit Bones like a shuttle craft as he realised that the reason it smelt like Jim’s hair, was in fact because it  _ was _ Jim’s hair. Memories crashed into him from earlier, and he immediately cast his mind towards his body to find it still fully clothed in what he was in yesterday (or maybe still today? Bones couldn't see a clock). He couldn't quite decide whether he was disappointed or relieved. After a moment's deliberation he settled on relieved. Cautiously, he leaned forward to bury his face in Jim’s hair,  _ god it really was as soft as it looked _ , but stopped when he felt someone shift behind him and the hand that accompanied it tightened its grip on his hip reflexively. Bones twisted slightly to look at Spock as he slept, a small smile on the Vulcan’s face. He felt himself relaxing and sinking back further into the two of them as tiredness started to reclaim him. A smile wormed its way onto his face as he felt himself drifting off again,  _ this might just turn out alright after all. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters get a little OOC in this chap (particularly Bones&Jim) but I hope its not too distracting and that you like the ending to this story! I may write more of the space triumvirate at some point, IDK. Let me know in the comments if you'd be interested (and any ideas as well).


End file.
